


if you want (too seriously)

by zenelly



Series: Smooch-tober 2018 [8]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Fingering, BDSM, Bondage, Breathplay, Glove Kink, Knifeplay, M/M, Mild Language, Negotiated Dubcon, POLYTHIEVES - Freeform, Sensory Deprivation, Shibari, phantom thieves aka protag's bf/gf/gremlin squad, smoochtober, the poly is heavily implied but like come on y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 10:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16240070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenelly/pseuds/zenelly
Summary: Akechi has to be pushed, sometimes, to do the things you want him to.Akira’s boot, smooth and cool, smelling strongly of leather, nudges against the soft underside of Goro’s chin, tilting his face up. “I don’t suppose you’re willing to be reasonable about this?”Running his tongue along his teeth, tasting all the blood there, Goro spits to the side. He misses Akira’s foot by centimeters, but Akira does little more than just glance at it with a brief flicker of dark lashes. His boot digs in, pointed, a reminder of his position right now.





	if you want (too seriously)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [petitekleptomania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petitekleptomania/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!!
> 
> See endnotes for any questions regarding the dubcon tag
> 
> also, am I doubling up on smoochtober and birthday fics??? absolutely yes.
> 
> Title from "Don't Swallow the Cap" by The National

He’s already bruised by the time they shove him down onto his knees. Ryuji packs one hell of a punch and Yusuke is surprisingly vicious when he needs to be, and it isn’t like Goro made it easy for them to get him here.

Goro’s body radiates heat and pressure, glowing points where blood pools around his chest and legs and the side of his face. His wrists sting, sweat gathering where he’s rubbed the skin raw trying to break free of the handcuffs. Something else they probably stole from him. The cuffs are too close together to be anything besides real and their edges press against his skin, sharp and uncomfortable. He takes a breath, trying to steady himself.

Ryuji squeezes his neck warningly, pushing him down further. Alright. Not really letting him up, then.

There’s a step.

A boot comes into view, the grinding tap of the sole against the floor catching Goro’s immediate focus.

Akira.

This is where things will get dangerous, Goro knows. The others, he could out-talk or outwit or even perhaps overpower if push came to shove, but Akira is a knife folded within cloth. A threat that, despite Goro knowing exists, he can never properly anticipate.

Akira’s boot, smooth and cool, smelling strongly of leather, nudges against the soft underside of Goro’s chin, tilting his face up. “I don’t suppose you’re willing to be reasonable about this?”

Running his tongue along his teeth, tasting all the blood there, Goro spits to the side. He misses Akira’s foot by centimeters, but Akira does little more than just glance at it with a brief flicker of dark lashes. His boot digs in, pointed, a reminder of his position right now.

“Kiss it,” Akira orders, steel in his tone. “Kiss it, and I will let you go.”

Goro recoils but. He can’t go too far. Not with the steady hands still holding his shoulders and arms, but he can still reject _this_. He’s not about to lower himself to kissing Akira’s boot.

“Do you enjoy me like this? Powerless and on my knees for you?” Goro spits because he doesn’t want to admit how disoriented he really is.

His head snaps to the side with the force of the slap Akira delivers, backhanded and harsh, the leather of his red gloves an extra sting.

“Alright then, Akechi.” Akira stands to his full height, looking down at Goro with a distance in his eyes that sets its teeth in Goro’s stomach. “We can play like that.” Then, to the two with him as Akira turns away, “Strip him.”

A click sounds next to Goro’s ear. _Pocket knife_ , he categorizes without thought. Clever. They won’t even let him out of his cuffs for this. A sharp pocket knife too, judging by how quickly it cuts through his shirt in a straight line from his neck to the small of his back. Yusuke lifts Goro’s bound wrists, ignoring Goro’s grunt of discomfort as Ryuji finishes the cut. Next, they open his sleeves. Trembling, Goro can’t tell if the whisper of sharp sensation is real or imagined as the cold knife travels along the sensitive skin of his inner arm. His pants follow quickly, and Goro’s shoes have been taken before he even got in here.

Now, he’s just shaking, the air cold against his skin.

“Akechi. Are you with me?” Akira asks from somewhere behind him.

Goro grits his teeth. “Obviously yes. I am, in fact, right here.”

“Getting snippy is only going to make this worse, Goro.”

“Akira,” Yusuke starts, but goes silent after a moment. Goro can’t look up. Ryuji’s hand is still heavy on his neck.

Then, a different, colder touch.

Goro jolts as a rope is draped across his neck. Yusuke kneels in front of him and starts making quick work of intricate knots, passing the rope over and under at various intersections. Goro can’t keep track of it all, just the way it feels around him. Settling, like another skin. Yusuke’s hands dart quickly between his legs, a knot sitting right against his perineum. That gets tied off with another loop directly across his trachea, coming all the way up his back, loose ends trailing down his spine, and Yusuke starts with another length of rope. This one around Goro’s thigh, anchoring his calf to his thigh with a steady progression of knots up the outside.

He flexes his toes. That’s about the only part of his legs he can move.

It’s quickly repeated on the other side, and he thinks he hears Yusuke murmur, “Beautiful,” before he steps away.

“Behave,” Ryuji says, tapping the back of his head and Goro can’t help but snort at the _audacity_ -

 Ryuji pinches his nipple, twisting it roughly, and Goro’s snort turns into a shout, high and reedy. The pain doesn’t stop, liquid and hot, a bolt of sensation ricocheting straight to his cock, and Goro bites his lip, turning away from the amused look in Ryuji’s eyes.

“That ain’t behaving.” Then he’s gone, standing with a huff. “Alright, leader. He’s ready for you.”

There’s the soft sound of kisses exchanged, the low susurrus of voices and the tap of footsteps as Yusuke and Ryuji leave.

“You’re either very brave or very stupid to be in a room alone with me again, Akira,” Goro says.

“Oh Goro. You’re no threat to me like this. I know how much you like putting on a performance, but you’ve always been the most honest with me when we’re alone.” Akira smooths a hand through Goro’s hair, smiling down at him. “Don’t worry. If you do well enough here, we can bring them back.”

It’s both a threat and a promise, and Goro drops his eyes instead of letting Akira know how much the uncertainty affects him. Hard tread hits the center of his chest, pushing him back to sitting upright. Akira leans his weight forward, dragging his boot down Goro’s chest until it rests on the join of his thigh and torso, heel dangerously close to the center of all his pooling blood.

Goro keeps his eyes up, but that means he has to see the way Akira examines his hard cock, the way his full lips quirk into a smile. Has to meet Akira’s grey, knowing eyes when he lifts them to match Goro’s gaze.

The boot drags down. Goro’s breath catches.

Heavy leather just barely brushes his cock before running deliberately down the underside and back, further. “Stay still, Goro,” Akira murmurs. The toe of his boot holds the knot between Goro’s legs steady. “I don’t want to mess up.”

And Goro, stinging and bruised and washed in a steady, thudding heat centered around where Akira is stepping on him, does as he’s asked. His breath comes out of him in shuddering gasps, wet and heavy on the outbreath.

Akira shifts his weight slightly and his foot _moves_ and-

The rope around Goro’s throat yanks him backwards, bending him in an uncomfortable arch. He can’t- He can’t breathe. He can’t move his legs to accommodate the pressure and if he leans back too far, he’ll fall over. Akira doesn’t seem to care though, his grey eyes focusing on something just past Goro’s neck. The rope gets tighter. Goro wheezes, bends a little more. His face feels hot. His lungs are straining.

Akira moves his foot a little higher up the rope, drawing Goro back like a bow.

Around him, the world goes spotted and strange, warping at the corners. Goro closes his eyes to the disorientation and-

Is released like a shot as something soft is secured around his eyes.

He can’t see.

“Akira,” he starts, but Akira is moving behind him now.

“Shhh,” Akira says and then nothing more that Goro can hear. His warm hands cover Goro’s ears, blocking out all sound except for the rush of Goro’s breath and the distant rumble of Akira’s muscles and blood, the occasional groan of his tendons. He can’t see. His hands are bound in the small of his back, unable to touch anything aside from glossy nylon and his own salt-tacky skin. A whisper of wind against his face. Goro twitches away from it, until.

Warm lips touch his.

Akira kisses him slowly, the angle upside down and strange as Akira draws Goro’s lower lip into his mouth, teeth sharp. He works Goro open, pressing insistently, their mouths sliding wetly as Akira tests angle after angle, seeking a good route in. As though Goro is some kind of lock. Every move is uncertain, difficult to anticipate, but it draws Goro’s entire focus, narrowing him down to this one point of contact. The only thing he can feel for himself.

Goro’s tongue darts out before he can think to stop it. Akira pulls back quickly.

Through the haze falling over his thoughts and the distant rumble of Akira’s very blood, he swears he hears Akira murmur, “There we go.”

And then he returns. Ravenous and consuming, he doesn’t give Goro a moment to catch his breath. Akira kisses Goro like they’re dying, and it’s all Goro can do to keep up, to open his mouth, to return the bites with his own until his lips are tingling and tender and he tastes iron when Akira’s tongue sweeps into his mouth.

Just as suddenly, Akira lets him go.

The return of sound is-

Startling.

Goro drifts without contact. His lashes push against the soft cloth of his blindfold. He turns his head from side to side. Akira could be anywhere. He’s always been remarkably quiet and it’s working against Goro right now. Ears straining to hear anything outside of his own heartbeat. “Akira?”

His own breathing is loud. Too loud.

An unexpected touch. Goro jolts away from the contact, groaning when it makes the ropes tighten and rub, the knot right at his perineum particularly unforgiving. He can’t get his legs under him. If he really tried, he might be able to, but there’s almost no give to how his calves are folded against his thighs, secured with knots that the touch moves on to check, little vibrations of pressure.

“Goro,” Akira murmurs. “Still with me?”

Goro swallows. The flex of his throat presses against the loop around his neck. He can feel it, tight around his neck, every time he even so much as breathes.

It shouldn’t settle him the way that it does, but. The ropes give him boundaries. They keep him contained, keep him from spilling, messily, all over Akira’s hands and life, because if he’s tied up, then he’s _here_ , isn’t he? Isn’t that how this goes? The rope holds him together so Goro can let go?

Shifting, the ropes drag against his nipples and Goro can’t _breathe_ without feeling every inch of them on his body, holding and pressing with Akira’s hand steady between his shoulder blades.

“Yes.” Then, he gasps, “Akira.”

“I’m right here.”

He’s right there. He’s close enough that Goro can feel the heat from his body as Akira walks around him, seeing what kind of pretty picture he makes. Goro licks his lips. “Enjoying the view?”

Akira sighs. “You won’t ever stop talking, will you?”

A flash of heat. “You’d have to make me.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” and the words themselves are intent but Akira sounds like he’s commenting on Goro’s fucking _food_ preferences or whether he likes to take the Ginza line into Shibuya or not. Absent, slightly distant in a way that has Goro’s skin crawling with the need to bite.

Then, a touch on his chin. Goro stills, holding his breath. He can feel his pulse in every crease of his lips, swollen and sensitive to even the barest brush of air.

Akira hums, considering. Then, “Alright.”

He wastes no time, pressing on the hinge of Goro’s jaw cruelly and holding it open. Goro inhales sharply and tastes only leather on his tongue as Akira shoves two fingers into his mouth, holding his tongue flat against the bottom. Goro wants-. He wants to suck, to set his lips around the joints of Akira’s fingers and wrap his tongue around them, but Akira isn’t moving. Just keeping his mouth open. Goro feels the heat of his gaze like a physical force. His fingers flex, wet leather creaking.

Letting out a shaky breath through his nose, Goro relaxes. Tries to, at least. Lets his tongue go soft and slack, and he’s rewarded with a smooth thrust of Akira’s fingers, aided by the slickness of his own saliva, and the blinding heat of figuring out what he’s supposed to do leaves Goro trembling.

Goro follows Akira’s fingers as they leave his mouth, the seams of the gloves catching on the corners of his mouth.

“Hope you did a good job of this,” Akira says with a smirk in his voice, rubbing his fingers against the hot curl of Goro’s entrance. Goro feels the way his body is soft and slick and shamefully eager for Akira’s touch, his hips shifting traitorously towards him.

“I did just fine,” he grits out.

Akira turns his face to kiss the upcurve of Goro’s cheek, oddly tender. “You’re doing perfectly so far.”

Akira shoves two fingers inside him without any further warning, and Goro shouts, would curl up if he could. His legs tremble with the need to move, to drive himself away from the painful stretch or back onto it further, arousal curling heavily in his stomach. Akira waits barely at all before he adds a third, curling and thrusting right against his prostate. Wet and sloppy, the noises fill the air around Goro’s gasps.

Every breath Goro takes is constrained by the ropes, adding another layer of sensation. If he breathes, they rub against his nipples, across his shoulders, around his throat. If he shifts to relieve that, the knot between his legs presses harder, a two pronged attack on his prostate, and Akira is trailing kisses and bites like liquid fire along every open inch of Goro’s neck that he can reach. Everything is so much. Goro can’t think. There’s too much to feel, too much to concentrate on. Akira curls his fingers inside Goro and Goro’s toes curl, his own hands scrabbling at the ropes for _something_ to hold onto.

Akira’s teeth set right at the juncture of Goro’s throat and jaw under his ear, and Goro’s head goes slack, letting him have the room. “Sounds like you want something. What do you want?”

Goro swallows. The rope is tight around his throat.

“What do you want, Goro?” Akira asks again, his voice a velvety rumble in Goro’s ear.

He licks his lips.

“Please,” Goro says. His voice cracks in the middle of the word. Akira seems to take this as a challenge, fingers curling relentlessly inside Goro. “Please, Akira.”

A hum. “Please?”

“Please say I can-“ and he cuts off with a cry, Akira’s other hand gripping his cock tightly as Goro shakes and inhales and drags himself back from the fever-bright edge of orgasm, so close, so so close, but he hasn’t _earned_ it yet because Akira hasn’t said he could come. Because Goro hasn’t asked. In a rush, hiccupping with pleasure, Goro begs, “Please say I can come, Akira.”

Akira’s mouth is at his throat. “Still with me?”

“Yes, yes, Akira, _please_.”

“Then go ahead.” With a sharp bite, Akira shoves a fourth finger inside Goro and _twists_ , and Goro shatters into pieces, white lightning cracking him open as unbearable pleasure tows him under.

* * *

 

“Shh, don’t open your eyes yet,” Akira murmurs.

His palm is warm over Goro’s eyes, and he subsides with a quiet mumble, fumbling until his fingers, numb, find Akira’s waist, and up, his neck and face. “Okay?”

“You did perfectly.” He gets a kiss after this, and Akira’s mouth is gentle on his own. “You did so good, Goro.”

Goro frowns, patting Akira’s face insistently. “Are _you_ okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a little worn out. The others are alright too, though I don’t think Yusuke will be doing anything other than the shibari portion of that next time.”

His mouth twists to the side. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. He didn’t realize before that it would be an issue. We’ll talk about it in a bit, though. He has other ideas of how he can join in.” Something presses against Goro’s lips. “Here, drink.”

Cool water soothes the roughness Goro feels in his throat, and he swallows, gently prying Akira’s hand off his eyes, blinking as light comes back to him. “I’d be okay with them being in here next time, I think.”

Combing through Goro’s hair, Akira smiles. “Alright. Sounds good to me. Up for cuddles?”

Goro nods, lassitude and something deeper pulling at his eyelids. Somehow, they end up on their sides, Akira spooned up behind Goro. Akira hasn’t stopped touching him even for a moment, a long line of comfortable heat against Goro’s back. He kisses the nape of Goro’s neck, nosing along the soft skin for a moment. Goro can’t be sure, but he’s fairly certain that Akira’s mouth is resting on the marks the rope noose may have left behind.

“Still with me, Goro?” Akira asks. His lips leave a tingling line behind, the barest glittering ripple of aftershock sensation skittering down Goro’s nerves. His arm curls around Goro, hand resting slightly to the left of center on Goro’s chest, and it’s soft and it’s stupid and it’s foolish, but many things about Akira are soft, and stupid, and foolish, and Goro likes them, likes _him_ anyway.

He threads his fingers between Akira’s, the twinned thuds of their heartbeats between them. “Yes. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to note here that any dubcon in here is the product of negotiation. Outside of the scope of this fic, it is implied at the end that this entire scene was something they all discussed and plan on discussing again. Any feelings of dubious consent are a product of the scene. This is something Akechi has enthusiastically agreed to, just not within the scope of this. Akira and Akechi do have a safeword set up and everything goes fine.


End file.
